Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
Monty remained standing so he could keep an eye on Speckles while he finished his second brownie. Graham kept his spot on the hay bale he’d brought from the back and Tex continued to occupy the battered old stool.
After cleaning the last crumbs out of the brownie pan, Tex pointed to himself, Monty and Graham. “One, two, three. Three cowboys.”
Graham nodded. “That’s a fact, kiddo.”
“I know.” His gaze swung toward Monty. “Do you gots a daddy?”
The unexpected question sent a jolt of emotion through his heart. “Yes. I mean, I did. He died.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.” Time was a funny thing.
It could stretch, shrouding a past event in mist, or compress and throw it into sharp focus, like now.
Maybe Graham’s presence had something to do with it, jumpstarting memories of the two friends cracking jokes, even in the dark times. Especially the dark times.
“Was he a cowboy?”
“He was. Best ever.”
“That’s the God’s truth.” Graham sounded like he had a head cold.
“I gots a daddy. He’s not here.”
“I noticed.”
“Mommy says he wants to be my daddy, but he’s not up to it.”
“That’s unfortunate.” He snuck a peek at Graham, whose jaw had turned to stone.
“It’s okay.” Tex shrugged. “He’s not a cowboy.”
“That’s for sure.” Graham’s scowl indicated he had more to say on the subject, but clearly Zinnia had taken the high road when explaining her ex’s absence to her son.
“Do you gots a mommy?”
“I do.” Might as well not get into the details of that. “She’s looking forward to meeting you at the birthday party.”
“How many days do I gots to wait?”
“Two.”
“I wish it was tomorrow.”
“You’ll want to be here tomorrow so you can start making friends with your foal.” He couldn’t bring himself to use his name for that colt.
“Speaking of birthdays,” Graham said, “Looks like today will be someone’s birthday.”
“Whose?”
Adorable. He really hadn’t figured it out.
“Your horse!” Graham chuckled as the light dawned on that innocent little face.
“Oh! My horse!”
“If he’s born before midnight, today will be his birthday.”
Looked like Graham wasn’t eager to use the name Monty, either.
“You mean Monty’s birthday.” Then he giggled. “Then comes Mister Monty’s birthday. Twins!” He glanced toward the barn door as Zinnia walked through it. “Mommy, I gots something to tell you.”
“What’s that, sweetie?” Zinnia had left her cap in the house. Looked like she’d brushed her hair, too. It fell in golden waves to her shoulders.
That probably wasn’t a signal that she wanted him to slide his fingers through it. But he sure wanted to. Oh, hey… was she wearing lipstick?
What was that supposed to mean? She hadn’t worn it this morning, so why now? In any case, he needed to stop staring at her tempting mouth ASAP.
“Guess what?” Tex wiggled on the seat, clearly excited about his news.
She grinned. “What?”
“Monty and Mister Monty almost have the same birthday. Isn’t that funny?”
“Yes. Yes, it is.” She pressed her lips together as if holding back a laugh. Then she swallowed and turned in his direction. “What do you think, Mister Monty?”
“It’s funny, all right.” He held her gaze. Definitely lipstick. “How’re the potatoes doing?”
She took a second to answer, as if she had trouble processing the question. Then she blushed and shifted into efficiency mode. “They’re almost done.” She glanced at her uncle. “Would you and Tex please go make a salad? I need to discuss a few things with Monty.”
“We’re on it.” Graham stood and reached for the brownie pan in Tex’s lap. “C’mon, cowboy. Let’s rustle up some grub.”
“But I don’t wanna miss—”
“I’ll call Uncle G if Speckles goes into labor.” Zinnia held up her phone. “I’ll make sure you don’t miss anything. I need you to help with the salad. Will you do that, please?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tex got to his knees and peered into the stall. “It’s okay, girl. I’ll be right back.”
The mare gave a snort.
“She’s gonna wait for me.” He slid off the stool and started out of the barn with Graham. “Can I use the sharp knife, Uncle G?”
“If you promise to take it super slow, buddy.”
“I promise.”
The minute they’d cleared the open doorway, Monty’s heart began misbehaving. He couldn’t breathe worth a damn, either.
She turned to him, her color high, her voice seductively low. “This is about Tex.”
“Is it?”
“He’s decided you’re his new hero.”
“You put on lipstick.”
“Yes, I did.” Her breathing was wonky, too.
He stepped closer, breathed in her citrus scent. “Why?”
“It’s the kind that smears.”
“You think I’d grab you? I’d never—”
“You’re not the one I’m worried about.”
“Oh.” That info ramped him up even more. Too bad he’d just declared that he’d never grab her. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “So.”
“So.” She copied his move and put her hands in her pockets. But instead of meeting his gaze, she focused on a point over his right shoulder. “As I was saying, Tex has serious hero worship.”
“No kidding. Any chance you can talk him out of naming this foal after me?” He couldn’t seem to stop looking at her mouth. And the pale pink lipstick she’d applied to keep herself from kissing him.
“I hope so. But not today. This foal is a big deal for him.”
“I get that.” She had the perfect mouth for kissing—a cupid’s bow on top and a plump lower lip that was just begging to be nibbled.
“He’ll probably remember it forever.”
The kid likely wasn’t the only one. Standing close to a woman he wanted to kiss, a woman who’d indicated she was similarly inclined, and being stymied by her recently applied lipstick….
“Like I said, Tex wants to be like you.”
“True.” That lipstick wouldn’t last forever. The kind that smeared never did. By the time they finished dinner, it would be gone.
“Mari and I talked about it. She suggested I ask you how you wanted to handle it.”
“Me? He’s your kid. I have zero experience with something like this.” But when it came to kissing, he had enough experience to know how sweet those lips would be, how supple, how—
“You’ve never had somebody’s little kid take a shine to you?”
“Can’t say that I have. But I’ll bet this isn’t the first time Tex has latched onto a random adult.”
“Actually, it is.” She finally looked at him. “His social life in Great Falls consisted of the kids at his pre-school and their parents. None of the dads were cowboys.”
“Do you think that’s all it is? The outfit?”
“It’s the outfit, but it’s also your job. You take care of horses. And there’s your ranch, and your, um—” She licked her lips and gestured toward him. “Your mannerisms.”
Her lower lip glistened where she’d run her tongue over it. He sucked in air. “I don’t have mannerisms.”
“It’s your walk, the way you stand, the tilt of your hat, the tone of your voice….” She trailed off, her gaze locked with his.
His heartbeat was out of control. “Are we…” He paused to clear his throat. “Are we still talking about your kid?”
“Yes. No.” She dragged in a breath. “Look, you don’t want to get tangled up with me.”
“You’re right, I don’t.”
“See, I knew that. You’re not ready for—”
“I’m not. But—”
“Then we’re on the same page.”
“Meaning we want each other?”
“Meaning it’s a terrible idea.”
“Probably, but—” A groan from the stall grabbed his attention. Turning, he glanced over at Speckles. “Call Graham. It’s happening.”